


Turning Point (One of Many)

by Ericine



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Aftermath, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ericine/pseuds/Ericine
Summary: “You wanted to know what exactly changed my mind,” Kat continues. “You did."When all is said and done, Michael and Kat discuss where to go and where to look, in the absence of people important to them.





	Turning Point (One of Many)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oparu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/gifts), [R_S_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/gifts).



> Just a bit of a thought I had left over after watching the season finale. I put the bare bones on Tumblr and fleshed it out a little here. I usually write more series-types of things, so it's strange to write something that doesn't necessarily fit with anything else I've written. And yet here we are. :)

“Permission to speak freely.”

“Granted.”

Michael Burnham stands across from Katrina Cornwell, rod-straight as usual. The  _ Discovery _ will depart soon with its newly decorated crew. If Kat didn’t know any better, she’d swear that Michael was leaning just a fraction forward toward Kat’s folded hands, the smallest glimmer of earnestness.

Kat’s been out doing things for the war effort for so long that she’s nearly forgotten what sitting in an office feels like.

She remembers the first time she knew Michael Burnham - she’s not sure if they’d ever met. She’s sure they would have at some point, but back then, she was just another officer on Pippa’s ship. But Pippa spoke of her often.

The admiral catches herself before she frowns - Pippa her friend and Pippa the cruel imposter are two different people, and it hurts to think about it. All of it. She does not push her thoughts away, though. The pain is a reminder. Through it, she learns. Through it, she remembers.

Through it, she bears witness to her friend, which is probably the least she could do after everything that’s happened.

“What changed your mind?”

Michael doesn’t have to bring up what she is referring to. Kat remembers another time she and her fellow officers - Pippa had been one of them, then - had stood in protest of something they had seen as unjust. A few days ago, though, she had been on the other side of it. She almost wishes the rest of the council had been there with her, to see the steely determination on the faces of everyone on the bridge. They all have their own reasons for being in that room and not on a bridge of a ship, but they can all do sometimes with a good reminder of what they’re here for, really here for.

Kat doesn’t sigh, but there’s a heaviness to her chest when she inhales. “Take a seat, Burnham.” Michael settles once more into the chair on the other side of Kat’s desk. “You’re wondering if it was positive or negative reinforcement that made me listen to you - the appeal to our values or the threat of mutiny.”

Michael shakes her head once, looks down at the desk. “It was a curiosity of mine, Admiral.”

“Because you want to understand.” Michael nods. “Is it too bold to speak about Philippa - Captain Georgiou - to you?”

Michael meets her eyes with no sign of challenge. “Of course not.”

Kat nods. “You know that we were friends, that we have been for years.”

“Since the Academy. You were roommates,” Michael recalls.

Smiling still feels foreign to Kat right now, but she does it anyway, feeling her face stretch. “From the start.”

“It must have been strange seeing her - the emperor - like  _ that _ .”

Kat doesn’t know if it gives her more or less comfort that that woman is somewhere in the quadrant, doing god-knows-what now.

Or, maybe it’s that if she’s honest with herself, she knows which option she prefers - Kat just doesn’t know how to feel about  _ herself _ because she feels that way.

“I trust that you and I read the same literature on the mirror universe,” says Kat. She waits for the nod, but it’s only a formality, really. “Then you would have known about the phenomenon of parallel that exists between our universes - that despite values being so very different over there, so much of it remains the same that our own universe can serve as enough of a point of reference for theirs. The past just just similar enough--”

“--and often, groups of people drawn to each other in our universe are also drawn together in some way in theirs,” Michael says. “That’s part of how Philippa ended up in this universe. I--well, you know.”

It’s jarring to hear her say her name because Kat’s pretty sure she’s never heard her do it before. Still, how else was Michael supposed to address her? ‘Captain’ or ‘Emperor’ didn’t work. “I do.” Kat leans forward. “It’s hard to let people go.”

Gabriel’s name is on the tip of her tongue, and she bites it back. It’s been this way for weeks, and she doesn’t see it changing any time soon.

(She’ll carry both of them with her - Pippa and Gabe. She doesn’t know how long it will last, but she’s still in the stage where she’s terrified of what happens when she stops carrying them, so the end of this is nowhere near. She knows that much.)

“Maybe you thought that a spark of your friend lived on in Philippa,” Michael suggests.

Kat smiles weakly. “Not when she spoke.” Never when she spoke. Kat remembers styling her hair into their Pippa’s style. Even her hair had felt different in her hands - perhaps another biological difference between their universes that no one in Starfleet had bothered to test for because every time they do meet, it’s so damn  _ fucked up _ . “But you are right about one thing, Burnham.”

“Admiral?”

“My friend - your captain - lives on. Not in Philippa--” (The name sounds strange in her mouth.) “--not in any other universe. Our Philippa Georgiou lives on right here. In Starfleet.” She swallows. “In you, Michael.”

Michael struggles a little with that information - Kat can see it on her face, how the commander draws into herself to process.

“You wanted to know what exactly changed my mind,” Kat continues. “You did. Or she did. There was just--I guess you just have to imagine. I could have closed my eyes, and it could have been her. She never would have wanted what happened to happen.”

Michael swallows hard and sits up a little straighter. “Yes.” That’s why they’re there and she’s not. “None of us are perfect. She had her flaws, but that solidity in her beliefs - that might be a universal constant.” Philippa the Terran had managed to hold an empire together under a certain amount of stability over such a long period of time. They both know that doesn’t come easily.

“She lives on in you, Michael.”

“I’m not her.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted that either,” Kat says with a shrug. “You wouldn’t either.” Michael weighs that last sentence a little, and Kat gets it, honestly - it’s hard to not want to be Philippa Georgiou. "What I'm saying is, if you ever feel the need to look for her, you might find a lot more inside than out."  


Michael swallows and stands. “Thank you, Admiral.”

Maybe it’s because she’s seen the spark of Pippa in her - Kat’s not in a hurry for her to leave at all, but she knows that she’s nearly exhausted their time together. “You’re dismissed, commander.”

Michael turns and walks to the door, then stops. “You listened to me,” she says, her hand stilled, reaching for the door. “You were willing to admit that you may not have been right. Philippa did the same thing, you know, when we were in the mirror world.”

Kat would laugh, if her loss hadn’t been sitting on top of her chest for months, making her ribs sore. “You think there’s hope for her?”

Michael turns. “I don’t know. I want to say yes, but--I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wanted to know what she was doing.”

“Well, her love for you is genuine. They both have that in common, so I suppose anything’s possible.” Michael nods and turns, maybe a little too quickly - maybe to hide the look on her face. “Captain Georgiou loved you, Michael. It was like you were her--”

“--daughter,” Michael finishes. Quietly, the commander manages to still make a sound filled with so much  _ grief _ that Kat wishes for a moment that they had the kind of relationship that constituted hugging.

And honestly, they both have tears in their eyes now, so Kat doesn’t really understand why they’re both fighting to hide it, but that’s what Michael’s decided, so she goes along with it. “She would have been so proud of you today. She was always so proud of you. She would tell me.”

When Michael turns once more, it’s like she hasn’t been crying at all. “We’ll continue to make her proud, then.”

“Godspeed, commander.”


End file.
